


Strangers In Kirkwall

by Outre_nar_Ficta_Orbis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outre_nar_Ficta_Orbis/pseuds/Outre_nar_Ficta_Orbis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the search for a friend, a Dalish elf crosses the path of a former slave on the run from Tevinter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers In Kirkwall

“No way! Those markings, they can’t be real.” The sudden voice made Fenris jump on the inside, his shaggy silver locks swaying as his head turned sharply to the right. There, standing beside him, was another elf, her blonde hair tied and pinned in a curious fashion – unsure if she sought to tidy or messy. She was much shorter than him, and leaning down, viewing the visible markings on his arm, a single finger of hers reaching out in curiosity, as if it planned to touch the marks but knew better than that.

“Who are you?” Fenris asked suspiciously, taking a couple of measured steps away from the elf-woman, defensively tensing his muscles. The woman slowly stood up straight, looking at Fenris with the most wonderful crystal blue eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with their own light. Now that the woman was standing properly, Fenris noticed her appearance much clearer – she was dressed not in the usual manner of elves that lived in the city, but rather of the wilder elves Fenris had seen in his travels. She bore their markings on her skin, though he knew they were different from the ones he wore.

“Ah, yes, manners, I completely forgot. I’m Jen,” Jen looked Fenris straight in the eyes, and suddenly he felt as if those eyes could see through him; Fenris realised then, that she had been watching him for much longer than he had known she was there. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have seen someone like me around here? She is about _this_ tall, with markings across her face like _this_ , and an utter hate for Tevinter and everything it stands for,” Jen moved her arms as she spoke, using them to indicate details as she went. Fenris scowled and drew his sword, pointing it at the strange elf woman, the long blade lining up with her neck.

“I won’t let you take back another slave, hunter,” Fenris’ voice came out in a threatening growl, and he expected the woman to pull away. Instead she stared him down, a slight frown making the markings on her face appear much more aggressive.

“Venhedis,” Fenris’s scowl tightened when he heard the Tevene curse, “I am not one of those disgusting slavers. I’ve put down more than enough of those shem bastards to prove it,” Jen continued to stare him down, before sighing and turning her gaze to the sky. “Fen’harel guide me,” she muttered at the distant sky, turning back to Fenris to question him one last time. “There are precious few hours of light left, and I do not appreciate the blade at my throat. Do you know where Tora is? Have you seen any other elves with white markings? Or are you just a giant pile of wasted elven blood?”

Fenris huffed, the suggestion that he was worthless hitting a nerve and angering him greatly. He dropped his sword arm, and stepped towards Jen, the glow of his lyrium markings reflecting on her blue eyes, washing them of the last of their colour. Fenris has to give some credit to Jen, even now that he was standing well within striking distance, she did not waver before him. Whether she simply didn’t fear him, or was underestimating his skill, he couldn’t tell. He raised his arm, now standing close enough that she had to tilt her head to look him in the eye, ready to phase it through her chest and crush her heart when he felt the cool touch of a blade against his throat.

“I did not fight the horde so you could strike me down,” her voice was defiant as she looked into the eyes of the man about to kill her. “You can try, but I will not submit,” Jen continued to look up at him, her blue eyes unwavering, her hand pressing a blade to the skin of his throat. He could feel the sharpness of the blade; feel how easily it could cut him – all while he was still poised to strike her through. Fenris lowered his arm, finding that his temper had cooled, and no longer cared to have her blood on his hands. After a moment, she too lowered her hand, stowing the blade in its hidden sheath.

“Leave now, before I change my mind,” Fenris growled, turning his back to her and walking away.

“A name first, Falon,” Jen said pleasantly, Fenris’ eyebrows sitting a little higher when he recognized the elven word for friend. He paused for a moment, considering the request, then looking over his shoulder, he said.

“Fenris.”

“Ma serannas, Fenris, may the Creators guide and protect you,” Fenris felt the need to scoff at Jen’s prayer in his favour, and he probably would have, if it hadn’t felt so strange to have someone wish him well. Jen smiled at him, no sign of a grudge over how close they had come to killing each other on her face, and simply walked away.


End file.
